As she neared the bottom of the dip in Piccadilly she saw a woman approaching her from the opposite direction—a tall woman who at the first glance seemed altogether beautiful and fine. Listening attentively, he fancied he heard the breathing of some one near him, and moved cautiously in the opposite direction. The iron slipped from his face, leaving it blank with astonishment. They were just nice. He had an air of having told her a deep, personal secret. I am your first, of course you feel strongly. That is why I have dyed my hair, that is why I have abandoned my rôle of ingenuèe and altered my whole style of dress. Oh, I’ve loved love, dear! I’ve loved love and you, and the glory of you; and the great time is over, and I have to go carefully and bear children, and—take care of my hair—and when I am done with that I shall be an old woman.
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